Seven Minutes
by The-Ones-Who-Ran
Summary: A few months after the events of Children of Earth, Captain Jack Harkness finds himself once again in the possession of the Resurrection Gauntlet. Returning back to Cardiff for the first time since the 456 wrought havoc, Jack knows just what to do with the glove. Meanwhile, in the endless void, a certain Welsh tea-boy finds himself being pulled from the nothingness...


**Seven Minutes – A Torchwood Fan Fiction/Short Story**

**Taking place sometime after the events of Children of Earth, featuring Captain Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones, as portrayed by John Barrowman and Gareth David-Lloyd, respectively. **

The darkness was all around him, heavy, the pressure squeezing his body. He couldn't breathe, the weight of it crushing his chest, his skull, his whole entire self. He groped blindly around him, but there was nothing, nothing at all. It wasn't darkness, it was just an absence of absolutely everything. He could _feel_ it, though, he could feel its cold embrace. The tight squeeze should be killing him, but his bones remained unbroken, his body intact. The weight of nothing was ubiquitous, with no hope of escape. With enough force to warp metal, crush mountains, and turn everything to dust, it pressed against every inch of him, everywhere, and he crumpled in defeat, covering his face with his hands. He begged silently for death to come, pleading for an end to the pain building around him to whoever could possibly hear his mute cries.

What Ianto Jones didn't know was that he was already dead, the memory of his passing pushed to the back of his brain as the threat of the darkness loomed all around him. Death was exactly like everyone had described it to him, a never-ending void, vast and boundless. Empty. Had he known he was dead, he would have probably thought this was Hell, for how much had he done wrong in his life? He'd killed, he'd lied—it had practically been in his job description. He'd have thought he deserved Hell, but death doesn't differentiate between the good and the wicked. Now he crouched hopelessly in the void, wishing for a death that had already been given to him.

Then suddenly, the weight lifted.

Ianto's eyes shot wide open. His eyelids fluttered quickly a few times in the sudden light, before he forced them wide open, unblinking, in a look of surprise and terror. He gasped loudly, fresh air rushing into his lungs, his cheeks reddening almost immediately as he did so, his colour returning. The weight had suddenly lifted, disappeared in an instant. His large, frightened eyes darted in every direction as he gazed upward, though his vision was still hazy. As it cleared, he began to make out a familiar face hovering above him, though it appeared upside down from his lying position.

It was a face he'd come to know so very well, having held in his hands so many times, memorized its shape with his fingers. His face was still smooth, almost completely unlined, having not aged a day since he last gazed upon it. Though he hadn't aged as far as he could tell, Ianto noticed his face appeared darker, showing tiny, barely noticeable signs of stress, grief, and anger. His heart leapt at the sight of him.

"Jack?" Ianto panted, his voice rough and cracking, confusion colouring his expression. Jack beamed, and Ianto saw the glitter of fresh tears in the corners of his eyes, which had started to pour over. Ianto stared at the tear tracks in alarm. "What, what happened? Jack, what… what's going on?" Ianto racked his brain, but his thoughts were as blurry as his vision had been, muddy memories hiding just out of reach in the back of his head.

Ianto struggled to raise himself up, causing his head to spin dizzily, but his whole body felt stiff, his joints aching. He settled on raising his head just an inch or two, glancing around him, the world around him tilting, disorienting. He was lying on a shiny, metal surface, from what he could make out. It looked like a table, and it felt cold and hard against his stiff muscles. He was surprised to see that he was fairly well dressed, wearing his work clothes, though the pants and waistcoat he wore were rather dirty, his tie considerably loosened. He searched his head in a panic for the memories, but everything came back murky.

His eyes wandered back to Jack's face again, shooting him a bewildered look that was mixed with terror as he fought against the fog in his brain. He expected Jack to say something, say anything to help him remember, to suppress the building worry. Jack just stared down at him with a smile, tears forming wet tracks upon his cheeks, with a complicated emotion on his face that mostly resembled joy, though sadness lurked there as well, hiding in the dark creases of his face Ianto had noticed earlier.

Ianto suddenly felt something cold digging in to the back of his head as he lay it back down on the table. It had been there since he had woken up, but only now could he feel its cold grip at the base of his skull. Ianto slowly maneuvered his head around the cold object, and saw Jack standing behind him out of the corner of his vision, his arm out to cradle the back of his head.

The image sent information flying into his mind, and his forehead pulsed with the sudden knowledge. His heart sped and a rush of air forced itself out of his lungs in a wild gasp, memories flooding clear and vivid into his head, flashing behind his eyes like a terrifying slide show.

"I died!" Ianto shouted, his voice breaking as his eyes locked onto Jack with the sudden realization, though Jack still hadn't made a sound. "Jack, what have you done? I died, Jack! Why aren't I dead? Jack? Jack!" Ianto was nearly hyperventilating now, more distressed than Jack had ever seen him. Quiet, composed Ianto now lay on the table, flapping around on the table similar to a fish brought aboard a fisherman's boat.

"Shhh, Ianto, calm down!" breathed Jack, placing his free hand on Ianto's chest, pushing him back onto the table, though he was strangely gentle, his eyes pleading with Ianto "Just relax, everything's going to be alright. Lie down." Ianto lay still, but he still felt his pulse racing in his ears, his mind buzzing with excitement, with fear. It was a strange role reversal, Jack calming _him _down, Jack being calm and rational while he panicked. Before Jack could say anymore, Ianto surprised him with a question.

"How much longer have I got?" Ianto nearly whispered, his voice a low whimper, and Jack saw that Ianto had tears forming in the corner of his eyes as well. Jack removed his hand from Ianto's chest before reaching into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a stopwatch. Not just any stopwatch though, it was Ianto's stopwatch, the one he has used so many times to measure the final few minutes of resurrection of so many corpses.

Corpses. The word bothered Ianto now, gave him an empty feeling in his chest. Was he, himself a corpse now? One of the dead?

"You've been back for about two minutes," he said slowly, placing Ianto's stopwatch on the table, by Ianto's right ear. He could hear it ticking softly, steadily. It calmed him, and he felt his pulse slow to match its beat. Tears still obscured his vision, and he started to raise his arm to wipe them away, feeling heavy and wooden as he fought to lift it. Jack beat him to it, quickly wiping his eyes with the thumb of his stray hand. Ianto smiled ever so slightly, glancing up at Jack.

"I can't think of anything to say," Ianto confessed, a small, sad smile on his face "I mean, I've already said my last words, I didn't think I've have to have more prepared." He laughed weakly, and felt the metal fingers of the resurrection glove poke at the back of his skull as he did. Jack didn't laugh, but the faintest trace of a smile flashed upon his face. "So, since I'm still alive for the moment, where'd you find it? The glove?"

"The risen mitten?" smiled Jack, though it didn't touch his sad eyes. Jack cleared his throat "It fell through the rift. A friend of mine found it, and managed to get a hold of me. As soon as I got the news, I raced back to Cardiff. I knew exactly what I'd do with it." Ianto frowned.

"Where were you, Jack?" he asked quietly, curious "How long has it been?"

"Months." Jack whispered sadly, though didn't give him a definite number "I've been wandering for a good while." He focused his gaze on Ianto's for a few moments, before glancing back at the stopwatch to the right of his head. "Three minutes." He breathed.

"I'll be gone any second now," Ianto said, his voice surprisingly calm. He had already died once, and felt no fear as he felt his seconds slipping away with every tick of his stopwatch beside his ear. _Tick, Tick, Tick_.

"Can you make me some coffee while you're here?" Jack asked, attempting to joke lightheartedly in the face of Ianto's imminent death, but his voice sounded heavy, broken. It was so very unlike him, the tone of his voice, and his struggle to be his usual humorous self was pitiful, nearly bringing the tears back to Ianto's eyes. "I haven't had a really good cup in a long time." Ianto smiled despite the slight tremors he could barely make out in Jack's usually strong voice.

"I bet you haven't." Ianto could see a slight shadow appearing the corner of his peripheral vision, but blinked it out quickly. He wanted to stay awake as long as he could. "Where's the team, where's Gwen?" The question was innocent enough, but it created a dark veil that passed over Jack's features.

"Torchwood is finished," He replied dispiritedly, offering no more on the subject. They stayed in silence for a few long moments, the only sound their quiet breathing and the constant ticking. _Tick, Tick, Tick_.

"Four minutes." Jack murmured, breaking the silence. Ianto closed his eyes briefly, before reopening them, turning to Jack.

"The 456…?" Ianto asked, trailing off, recalling his final days with a twinge of sorrow.

"Taken care of, the human race safe once more thanks to us," Jack replied, Ianto breathing a sigh of relief.

"Good," he smiled, genuinely comforted by the fact "I was hoping I hadn't died for nothing." He spoke of his death casually, without a change in his expression. Jack's face, however, gave a small twinge, his eyes flashing with pain at the memory. "Don't be sad, Jack." Ianto whispered, even though he was the one whose life was slipping away. Ianto's blue eyes pleaded with Jack, made unusually bright and glassy from the tears.

Jack scoffed involuntarily, as if he had a choice in that matter. He had been hardened in his lifetime, the length of so many lives across so many times, but the sight in front of him broke his heart. He'd lost so people over the years - friends, family, lovers - and every time it completely devastated him. It never got easier with repetition, and he had a feeling it never would. He wished he were stronger, but the look in Ianto's eyes tore him to pieces.

"Five minutes," sighed Ianto, counting the ticks by his ear carefully, surprisingly accurate "I think this might turn out to be a new record. You know, not counting people who came back more... _permanently_." Ianto smiled, and he felt the heaviness returning to his body. It covered him like a warm blanket, not yet at the strength it had been. Ianto felt like he was slowly being lowered underwater, and his senses started to dull. "Goodbye, Jack." He breathed, and started to close his eyes.

"No!" shouted Jack, focusing all his energy into the gauntlet that supported Ianto's head "Ianto, stay with me. Please, Ianto!" Ianto felt himself being pulled back to the surface once more, his eyes fluttering open as he took a deep breath. He could feel the darkness' presence still, waiting impatiently for his return, but he knew he could hold out for just a few more moments. He stared up, resolving to memorize Jack's face before he sank into the black water again.

"Tell me, Ianto," Jack begged quickly, hastily under his breath "I heard it from Suzie, from Owen, but I want to hear it from you." Their gazes locked, staring into each other's eyes. "What comes after, what happens then?" Ianto was immediately reminded of the blackness, which still crept at the edge of his vision, its claws reaching for him as he lay on the table. He fought back a wince, seeing the tiny flicker of hope in Jack's eyes, a hope he didn't want to crush.

"It's beautiful, Jack" lied Ianto, his voice breaking, the tears returning full force "I saw my father again, saw Lisa. Everyone I'd ever lost, back with me again." Jack smiled, the tiny spark of hope blooming, lighting up his eyes. Ianto only felt slightly guilty for lying, for the look on Jack's face was worth the dishonestly, that joy written all over it. It brought a smile to Ianto's, though the dark shadows continued to rise around him. "I know you can never die, Jack, but I'll wait for you there, as long as it takes. Just don't forget me, okay?" His voice broke on the last word, thinking of the nothingness that awaited him, the darkness that was already starting to wash over him again. They would never see each other again.

"Never could," Jack repeated his answer from the day of Ianto's death, promising him once again. For how could he ever forget? "Don't you forget me either." Ianto laughed, actually _laughed_.

"Never will," he grinned, chuckling at the possibility that he ever could. He could suddenly feel his chest being compressed, as if someone what sitting on it, stealing his last breath. He felt himself sinking under its weight, though his body, of course, did not move. "I love you, Jack." He whispered with his final breath, the blackness smothering him once more.

"I love you, too, Ianto Jones." He heard Jack reply hoarsely, though his voice was faint, distorted as if he were hearing him from under water. The image of Jack shimmered above him as if obscured by a veil. As his sight dimmed, he saw Jack slowly bend his head down to his. He could feel Jack's lips lightly press against his own, his tears tumbling down his face, landing in a puddle on Ianto's own cold cheek.

That was the last thing he ever felt before he pulled under by an invisible force, the pressure enveloping his entire body, though his lips still tingled dully with the ghost of Jack's kiss. Faintly above him, he could just barely hear the ticking of the stopwatch halt abruptly with a soft click.

"Seven minutes," Jack whispered, barely audible as Ianto sank into nothingness. Dead.

* * *

**Edited 5/1/2013**

**Thank you to everyone who left such kind feedback on my very first fic :) I hoped you enjoyed it (or at least teared up a bit) and any more comments and criticism are very welcome.**


End file.
